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    From a young age Celia Paul has chronicled her life through her art. The people, landmarks and landscapes so intimately and deeply connected to Paul and her daily life between the years 2011 and 2024 are captured within the exhibited works on paper. These were composed often in a bid to record occasions deemed worthy of recollection or when an event readjusted the artist’s perspective. As she herself noted, ‘in this respect, they resemble diaries’.
     
  • Like a diary entry, many of the works are dated, with these annotations being integral to the final image. The dates give a rare clue to a moment of specific significance - the third anniversary of her husband Steven Kupfer’s death; a saint’s day, such as 14th February; or the artist’s birthday. In other works, the dates are withheld. Within these unmarked landscapes, portraits and still lifes, the impetus remains veiled which only enriches their contemplative and intimate nature.
     
    The final work in the show, dated 11 November 2024, gained greater significance to Paul after it was completed. A watercolour of Paul’s four sisters – Mandy, Lucy, Jane and Kate – it marked the artist’s birthday. That same day the artist Frank Auerbach died; a dear friend of Paul’s, whom she named her son after. The watercolour subsequently took on a profound new poignancy.
     
    The power of these works on paper is indebted to the mystery of the visual language which, in contrast to the written word, withholds explicit communication with the viewer. This enigmatic quality leaves the diary entry only partly narrated with the image acting like an echo of the moment recalled by the artist.
  • I want to try and make a painting of the night sky with its stars. It is something I have thought about doing for a very long time. I would like it to be a big, square painting. I would like it to have a similar silence to an Agnes Martin grid painting, which can never be reproduced by technological means; you have to stand in front of the real painting to sense the silence, like an electric charge between the looker and the image. To make the painting, I will need to find a deep stillness within myself. I must discipline myself to be still. I am anxious now and I know that the night sky painting wont work until I am quiet in my soul

  • Introduction by Celia Paul

     

     

    I don't make studies on paper every day, just when something out of the ordinary occurs - like when I am travelling, or when I have a visitor, or at a moment of unusual intensity when I seem to see my surroundings differently; the works on paper are records of occaisons I need to remember: in this respect they resemble diaries. 
     
    I make drawings in a variety of media: pencil, coloured pencil and watercolour heightened with white pastel, ink and wash. When I am away from home I record what I see in small sketchbooks. I use the sketches for oil paintings on my return to my studio in Bloomsbury. 
     
  • The works on paper I make in the studio are on a larger scale and rarely form the bases of...
    Thistle, 2024. Watercolour and pastel on paper
    The works on paper I make in the studio are on a larger scale and rarely form the bases of oil paintings. The paper is attached to a drawing board and placed on an easel so that the verticality of the image is accentuared by drips from the watercolour or ink. They have an openness and drama which contrast with the private intimacy of the studies I make on holiday which are prised frrom within the covers of my sketchbooks. 

    The dates of both the outdoor and indoor records are integral to the image. They may just denote the year, or the time of year, or relate to a day that has special significance for me, as in 'Tower, Tree, Museum' (while he slept)', February 18th, 2020. It is of the view from my window onto the forecourt of the British Museum, behind which I can see the BT Tower. I added the title afterwards. The month of February 2020 has a particular poignancy, in retrospect because no one knew what was waiting from them in March: the first month of the long pandemic which caused so many rifts and ruptures. 
  • Some of the dates with private references I have kept to myself. In 'Everlasting Spring, Bunch of Dried Flowers, March...
    Stream and Sea, September, 2020. Watercolour and white pastel on paper
    Some of the dates with private references I have kept to myself. In 'Everlasting Spring, Bunch of Dried Flowers, March 2024', I haven't marked that I actually made this watercolour on March 29th. It happened to be the third anniversary of my husband Stevem Kupfer's death, as well as being Good Friday. I didn't want to close the iamge off from more open relevance by including the day in the title. 
     
    Though all of the works have been made from a deeply personal motive, the dates of some have a general significance: 'Delphinium, February 14th', for example, or 'Pink Rosebuds, New Year's Day'. Flowers very often mark occasions: Births, Weddings, Funerals, Public Holidays, Saints' Days. 
     
    In the last work in the exhibition, the date forms its title: 'November 11th, 2024'. It was my birthday and all my four sisters - Mandy, Lucy, Jane, Kate - arrived to sit for me. The date coincided with the death of the great painter Frank Auerbach, my dear friend. At the time of the sitting, my sisters and I were unaware that he had died earlier that morning. However, there is an uncannily commemorative spirit to this watercolour.